


Maybe Yes

by palateens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: “You ever think about getting married?” Holster says casually on a Sunday afternoon, apropos of nothing.





	Maybe Yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maeve_of_Winter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/gifts).



> Thanks to Maeve_of_Winter for all the exciting prompts I received! This initially started out as an ABO fic but that plot grew significantly and time got out from under me so I hope to make that longer story a reality later this year!  
> Thanks to X for brain storming with me as well as Y for being emotional support/cheerleader extraordinaire/on call beta. And a big thanks to my roommate for taking my writing seriously and reminding me to do what I love.

“You ever think about getting married?” Holster says casually on a Sunday afternoon, apropos of nothing.

Kent's halfway through a strawberry waffle, nearly choking on it as he inhales sharply. Holster has to slap his back hard enough for him to cough out the chunk of strawberry lodged in his throat.

“So...no?” Holster says as he hands Kent a glass of milk.

Kent winces, eyeing Holster warily from one of the stools in front of the kitchen island. When they first moved in, it’d been the coldest, dingiest spot in the whole house. But Kent paid extra for the contractor to knock out the wall separating it from the living room and entrance. Now the light that pours in from the front of the house illuminates the Spanish-style kitchen like a hug after a long day.

It reminds Holster of Kent every time he’s here. It fills him with more fucking love than he thought possible from a space. That's the effect Kent has, Holster thinks. He fills every crevice of his life with warmth and quiet reassurance.

“It's just sorta...early to be thinking about it?” he says.

Holster rubs the back of his neck. “I guess? Five years doesn't seem—”

“I meant early in the morning,” Kent says.

“Shit,” Holster says. “Yeah, sorry. Raincheck?”

Kent shakes his head, downing more of the milk. He sighs when he sets the glass on the table.

“Guess it was bound to happen eventually,” Kent says. “And don't get me wrong, weddings are fun and shit, but they're a pain in the fucking ass to plan.”

“That's what wedding planners are for,” Holster says.

Kent shakes his head. “Fuck no, leave the planning to me.”

Holster nods, skeptically. He expected more of a discussion—some wariness, negotiating, and even coaxing Kent to be honest. But here Kent is just...saying yes? To getting married?

“Just like that?”

“Duh, I fucking love planning parties,” Kent says.

But he hates being a guest of honor, Holster thinks.

“Yeah but—”

“I know what you're thinking,” Kent says.

Doubtful, but okay.

“...Continue,” Holster says slowly.

“Of course Ransom's gonna say yes, dude,” Kent says as he claps Holster’s back, winding around him to put his plate away in the sink.

“You just need to come up with the best proposal ever,” Kent says. “Make it something he’ll never forget.”

Holster feels like smacking his head against a wall. Of course Kent isn't figuring himself into the equation. It's not like Holster is trying to propose to him. Holster _always_ makes super complicated breakfast foods just for shits and giggles.

On the other side of their cozy townhome, the door jiggles open as Ransom walks in from his morning jog. His cheeks are tinged red from the brisk October morning in a way that brings out his eyes and makes his electric blue windbreaker pop against his skin.

Ransom could take Holster’s breath away in a gas station at three in the morning or in a men’s locker room while holding a dirty old jockstrap. He has in fact, taken Holster's breath away in both those cases...and every fucking day since they first met seven years ago. He's also been, in addition to one of the loves of Holster's life, one of his biggest confidants and the person most likely to read any Birkholtz facial expression like a lawyer Ad on the subway.

So in the thirty seconds it takes for Ransom to shuck his jacket off, stow it in the closet, and walk into the kitchen, he already knows Holster's plan had gone horribly, horrendously, wrong. Ransom glances between him and Kent frantically while Kent isn't looking. His face melts into a smile when Kent turns to greet him.

“There you are,” Kent says softly as he reaches over the kitchen island, kissing Ransom softly on the forehead.

“Here I am,” Ransom says clumsily. “W-what have you two been up to?”

Kent smirks, shrugging easily. “Not much. Your boyfriend here has some big ideas.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“Nah,” Kent says more casually than Holster thinks should be legal. “He was just shooting the shit with me.”

“If that's all…” Ransom murmurs as Kent slips past him to go upstairs, kissing him again in the process.

Ransom keeps a calm demeanor until they both hear the bathroom door click shut.

“Dude,” Ransom hisses. “What the fuck? You said you were gonna talk to him”

Holster grimaces. “Yeah, so, I tried—”

“And…” 

“And...maybe he thinks I was talking about you and I getting married?”

“You and I as in—”

“Just us? Yep,” Holster says.

Ransom whistles lowly as he slides onto one of the kitchen stools. “Wow.”

“I know.”

“Five years and he still doesn't get it, huh?”

Holster nods as he pours more waffle batter, this time for Ransom. “It's crazy, right?”

Ransom shrugs. “I don't know, bro. Remember when we tried to ask him out and he thought we were just asking for restaurant recs? Or when we asked him to move in and he was convinced we just needed a roommate—”

“Don't remind me,” Holster says. “We had a third of his team milling through here like it was a fucking open house.”

“So maybe it's like that,” Ransom says as he inspects one of the apples in the fruit basket across from him. “Kent's mad smart at strategy but, bro, he’s ridiculously oblivious.”

The waffle maker chirps over Holster's groans.

“Smart enough to win three Cups. Dumb enough to wonder why we kissed him after the last one,” Holster mutters to the waffle he plates.

He hands Ransom the plate. “So now what?”

“Now we ask again.”

“And if he doesn't get it? Then what?”

“Then we keep asking until he does,” Ransom says with a full mouth.

“Dude, gross.”

“You wanna marry this,” Ransom mumbles.

Holster leans against the kitchen island, grinning adoringly.

“Fuck yeah I do.”

_/.\\_

“So...what's your ideal marriage proposal?” Ransom asks Kent a few days later.

Correction: after a few days, some haphazardous reattempts at broaching the subject, and several discussions between him and Holster about what constitutes as “obvious enough for Kent without being dicks about it.”

This time Ransom and Kent are playing Smash in the living room while Holster thumbs through their record collection. Because being with a music nerd like Ken for this long means they've become the type of people who own vinyl records.

Holster's...surprisingly okay with this. It makes sense that, after years of comfort and getting to know each other, their interests have blended together in many different ways. It's like how Holster had never played Scrabble before he met Ransom; or how Kent had never ridden a bike before dating them. Adulthood is a one way ticket through an amorphis tunnel of dynamic growth, and fuck himself if he doesn't want to be with these two every step of the way.

“Uh...I don't...know?” Kent says eventually.

“You don't know because you haven't thought of it? Or because you don't want to ask?” Ransom asks. “Because that's okay—” 

“It's not like that,” Kent says, pausing the game.

Kent nearly drops his controller as he turns to Ransom.

“Not like what?” Ransom asks.

“It's just...complicated, me proposing to anyone,” he says.

“Babe,” Ransom says softly as he holds Kent's hands. “That's why I'm asking what you'd want. How would you want it?”

“I…” Kent's mouth snaps shut.

He opens and closes it a few times. Kent's hands twitch so much between Ransom’s that Holster can't look away. He gets up to sit behind Kent.

Kent whips his around to stare at him, mouthing ‘help me’ slowly.

Shit, of course he still thinks this about anything but him.

Holster squeezes Kent's shoulder gently. “Kent what if you were the one getting proposed to?”

“...Who's proposing to me?”

“We are,” Ransom says.

“Both of you?”

Holster says “duh” at the same time Ransom says “of course.”

Ransom's subsequent eyeroll is enough to signal Holster to dial back his salt. Right, romance. That's what they're going for right now.

Chirping can happen _after_ they score themselves a fiancé.

“Anyway,” Holster says. “Say we proposed to you. What would you say?”

“I'd ask why aren't you marrying each other, for starters,” Kent says. “You two are fucking soulmates. I can't fuck that up.”

“Well what if you didn't?” Ransom asks. “What if we just...kept dating with added marriage perks?”

“Like…” Kent says.

“Like an everlasting bond—” Ransom says.

“Or tax benefits!” Holster adds. 

“...Or tax benefits?” Ransom says incredulously.

“They're important."

Kent shrugs. “Okay but...marriage? Me? getting married?”

Ransom frowns. “What's wrong with you getting married?”

Kent grimaces.”Okay just...imagine if someone actually wanted to marry me. Why?”

“Because you're smart as all shit,” Holster sputters.

“And you're really kind and thoughtful,” Ransom adds.

“—And you're a hilarious, cat-loving weeb rolled into a hot millionaire with most of his teeth still intact,” Holster says.

Ransom glares at Holster.

“What? Where’s the lie?”

Ransom opens his mouth, likely to argue, when Kent beats him to it.

“Okay so I get proposed to...someone wants to propose to me...how are they proposing? exactly?”

“That's what we're asking,” Ransom says. “In your dream scenario, how does it happen?”

Kent hums thoughtfully. He sits there for a moment until he says, “I don't think it would matter as long as it really happened, y’know? Like, as long as I got proposed to, I’d be happy.”

Ransom groans.

Well, so much for easing him into shit with an ounce of subtlety.

“Okay, what if the three of us got married and you understood that you're being proposed to?” Holster asks.

“Dude—” Ransom hisses.

“What? If I wanna spend the rest of my life with my boyfriends-slash-best-bros why shouldn't they both know it?”

“Because snapping at Kent isn't how I wanted to propose to him?”

“Yeah, but, remember when we introduced him to your family and two weeks later he realized he 'met the parents'? Why can't we just skip the bullshit this time and say ‘we fucking love you, we already own a fucking house together, let's be gay and make babies?’”

Ransom rubs his temple. “Because—” 

“Okay,” Kent says.

They both look down at Kent sitting between them.

“Say what now,” Holster says.

“Okay,” Kent says quietly, his expression eerily neutral. “Let's get married.”

That was easier than expected...maybe this is a dream, Holster wonders.

“Really, babe?” Ransom asks.

Kent nods. “You mean it, right? Like—” he licks his lips “—like a giant cake and over hyped ceremonies and living in the suburbs with 2.5 kids?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Ransom says at the same time Holster says, “anything you want and more.”

Ransom gapes at Holster, who blushes slightly. So what if he's a bit over the top? He’d do anything for Ransom and Kent. It’s true.

Holster swallows thickly, scooting closer to Kent and Ransom. He takes a deep breath as he traces Kent's jaw lightly, his other hand finding its way to one of Ransom's.

“We’d do anything to make you feel safe and happy, babe,” he whispers to Kent. “Starting with making sure you know we're here for you. And how no matter how far or long it takes, we’ll always come back to you—”

“Because you're _home_ ,” Ransom adds, softly kissing Kent's cheek.

There are few things in this world Holster would never give up willingly.

The way Ransom chuckles at Holster's sincerity is one. Kent's smile as he says ‘yes,’ is another.


End file.
